Summertime & Butterflies

"God, I’m a good cook," Stephanie praised herself, winking teasingly at her sister as she took a bite out of her burger. "I really know how to slice up a mean tomato. Oops," she added as one of her tomato slices she’d just raved about dropped out of her burger and onto the deck. One of the dogs quickly scrambled up to eat the tomato, devouring it before he had a chance to taste it.

"I think the best part is the cheese," Harry commented, his voice serious. "It’s not too thick… thin, but not see-through. It’s perfect," he determined with a charming grin directed at Olivia. The couple of glasses of wine she’d consumed were making her gigglier than normal, but she reined back her giggles in an attempt to remain cool.

"You guys are both amazing," she deadpanned instead, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. A grin escaped – something she realised was almost impossible not to do with Harry around.

"Best meal I’ve had in months," Stephanie’s husband, Jeff told Olivia, his voice muffled as he was speaking with his mouth full. "Next time I get married, she’s gonna be a chef," he added, smirking at his wife. It was one of their many – many – inside jokes.

"And the next time I get married, he’ll be twenty-five," Stephanie replied sweetly. "I've had the old bull, now I want the young calf. Hey, Louis! How old are you?"

Louis grinned and slung an arm across Stephanie's shoulders. "Twenty-five," he affirmed cheekily. Catching Jeff's eye, who was shooting Louis an exaggerated glare, he quickly dropped his arm. "Erm... Actually, twenty-four," he joked as Jeff pointed at his eyes and then at Louis before laughing, ensuring the younger man he was kidding.

“Keep eating, you guys” Olivia urged, gesturing to the pile of burgers on the patio table. Expecting a couple of NHL players to join them for dinner, she’d made enough burgers to feed a small country. But Jeff’s teammates hadn’t arrived – unbeknownst to Olivia, they hadn’t even been invited, as the hockey discussions planned for the night was just a ruse.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Jeff told Olivia, standing up and adding another patty to his plate. The other boys stayed sitting, and Olivia wished they would have a second helping. She wanted to help herself to more food, but felt like a cow having more to eat in front of her perfect sister and the two svelte men who, no question, were used to girls the size of Olivia’s thigh.

“I will in a bit,” Louis promised, patting his stomach. “Just have to figure out where to put it!”

“So, I thought you guys broke up,” Jeff commented airily, balancing his plate in one hand and a fresh beer in the other as he settled back into his chair. “What?” he asked defensively, met with an incredulous look from both Olivia and Stephanie. “I listen to the radio!”

“Don’t lie, I’ve seen you look at Perez Hilton,” Stephanie told her husband with a shake of his head. “You love him. And not just because he draws dicks on everyone’s faces.”

“He doesn’t do that anymore,” Jeff retorted. “And shut up,” he added as he realised he was all too quick to jump to Perez Hilton’s defense.

“Everyone thinks we did,” Louis answered Jeff, his voice almost inaudible over Stephanie’s loud laughter. “It’s quite funny, actually. Our fans are very… what’s that you said about them?” he asked Harry. “Passionate?”

Harry nodded. “It’s a very nice way of putting it,” he replied. “I mean, we wouldn’t be here without them,” he added sounding very much like a media-trained professional. “But… some of them can be very… yes. Passionate.”

“And insane,” Louis echoed. “He’s the nice one, not me,” he added, jabbing his thumb in Harry’s direction with a grin.

“How do you deal with it every day?” wondered Olivia, thinking about the impending date she had with Harry – though she didn’t know when or where or even if – and wondering if they would be bombarded by crazy screaming girls who would hate her and write mean things about her online because she was older, fatter and not them. “I mean, that waitress snapped that picture of you at the bar, and we saw a couple girls waiting outside when we left. Doesn’t it get annoying?”

“It can,” Harry admitted with a shrug. “But it’s usually not that bad. We can go out and get coffee or whatever and not be noticed. The bar thing only happened cause she saw his credit card and knew his name, I think,” he continued. “Don’t worry,” he said to Olivia, though his words were quiet, mumbled and accented, so she couldn’t be sure that’s what was spoken.

“That’s why we thought you lot were ace,” Louis told Olivia and Stephanie. “You hadn’t a clue who we were. Just a couple of lads on the piss trying to steal your pool table.”

“it’s cause we’re old as shit,” Stephanie reminded him. “Now, if you were ‘N Sync, we would have been falling over ourselves just to smell you!”

“Backstreet Boys,” Olivia corrected with a smirk, remembering their childhood feuds, arguing over who was better.

Stephanie waved her hand, dismissing Olivia’s comment as Louis spoke up. “Alright, since you brought it up… How old are we talking here?”

Olivia knew she was older than Harry, but by how much was still elusive to her. She didn’t want to answer the question, but before she could decide if she should lie or tell the truth about her age, Stephanie replied.

“How old do you think we are?” she asked Louis playfully.

He guffawed. “Ay, no way,” he advised Stephanie with a grin and a shake of his head. “That’s always a bad, bad question to answer!”

“Okay, fine” answered Stephanie with a pout. “Fine, but who do you think is older?” she asked, indicating between herself and Olivia.

“You,” Harry and Louis simultaneously answered. Olivia laughed loudly; pleased they knew Stephanie was the older one. Unlike her sister, Olivia didn’t attend spas and plastic surgeons in an attempt to look a decade younger than she was. She didn’t think she looked much younger than she was, but didn’t think she looked older either.

Stephanie furrowed her brow. Olivia knew she was already planning her next Botox appointment. “Okay, but by how much?”

Jeff groaned loudly. “Jesus, Steph, you’re annoying,” he told her, though his insults were said with endearment. “She’s thirty-freakin-five.”

“Shut up!” Stephanie exclaimed, tossing one of the dog toys at her husband. “Besides, just,” she added defensively.

“Well, I wouldn’t have guessed thirty-five,” Louis assured Stephanie kindly. Olivia wondered if he was serious, though to someone only twenty-five, he and Harry probably thought a thirty-five year old would look like the Crypt Keeper.

“So you’re younger?” Louis continued, turning to Olivia with a grin. “By a lot, I’m imagining,” he added, winking playfully at Stephanie and his jab causing Jeff to laugh loudly.

“Ugh she’s thirty-one,” Stephanie scoffed, spitting out the words as though she was saying her sister was in her eighties. “She’s not some spring chicken!”

“Oh, calm down, Grandma,” Jeff teased her, standing up and grabbing the plate of burgers. “I’m gonna put these inside before we have a flood,” he said, gesturing to the two dogs eyeing up the plate and drooling profusely. “But help yourself if you want more,” he advised Louis and Harry before disappearing into the house.

Olivia exhaled quietly and blew her bangs out of her face. After a few glasses of merlot, Stephanie was bordering on obnoxious. It was painfully obvious to her that Harry was several years younger than she was; it didn’t need to be a major topic of discussion.

“Oh, he’s such a good little CinderHubby,” Stephanie chuckled, grabbing her wine glass and taking a long sip.

“Yo, Steph!” Jeff called suddenly from the kitchen, as though on cue. “Might wanna come in here and see what your darling daughters got into!”

“We’re just making dessert!” Mia’s voice wailed through the open window. “Violet wrecked it!” Her second sentence was shrieked out; causing everyone else to wince at the octave the little girl was capable of.

“Shit fuck ass damn,” Stephanie cursed, taking another long drink before setting her wine glass back down and staring at the house, looking as though she had no intention of entering the disaster.

“Stephanie!” Jeff shouted again. “I can see you!”

“God, wish me luck,” Stephanie stated, standing up with a long, dramatic sigh before disappearing into the house. Moments later, she was heard yelling “holy shit!”, her cuss punctuated by the sounds of two little girls crying.

“I can’t tell if that’s Steph crying or one of the girls,” Olivia joked, wondering where her purse was and hoping it was well out of harm’s way.

Harry laughed. “It’s a bit chaotic here, isn’t it?” he commented, nodding at his friend as Louis stood up, phone pressed to his ear. He disappeared to the front of the yard, leaving Olivia and Harry alone.

Olivia nodded. “That’s a bit of an understatement,” she laughed. “It’s incredibly exhausting here,” she admitted, not wanting to sound ungrateful towards her sister and brother-in-law for opening their home to her for a couple of weeks, but also thinking the cabin that a couple of her colleagues had rented sounded better and better with every shriek and cry emitted from the house.

Of course, then she wouldn’t have met Harry.

“We’ll have to do something nice and relaxing when I take you out then,” Harry smiled genuinely. “Have a nice little break from this lovely madness.”

Olivia looked at Harry, surprised that she was surprised he still intended on taking her on a date after hearing her age. “You really want to take me out on a date?” she asked him, realising just then that she’d already counted on him backing out.

“Of course,” answered Harry, his face painted with confusion. “I wouldn’t have asked you – twice, mind you – if I hadn’t wanted to.”

“That’s true,” Olivia mused, though still somewhat unconvinced. She looked down at her hands, wringing them together. “I sort of thought when you found out how old I am, you wouldn’t want to,” she confessed sheepishly.

“I don’t care about that,” he told her, watching her nervously wring her hands. “I liked you before I knew how ol – knew your age,” he added, quickly correcting his statement. He laughed suddenly, reaching out and grabbing one of her hands. Olivia’s stomach flip-flopped at their touch and she felt as though his hand, his touch, was electric.

“Stop being so nervous,” he instructed, intertwining his fingers with her own and rubbing his thumb reassuringly against the back of her hand. “I’m not that scary, am I?” He laughed again at the statement, but Olivia caught a sense of hurt in his voice.

“No,” she promised him, watching his hand massage her own and wondering how even his hands could be beautiful. “I’m just…” She stopping, cutting her words off before she uttered the only word she could think to describe herself in this scenario – fragile.

Harry shifted his position, scooting his chair closer to Olivia’s and facing her dead-on. He took her other hand in his, tingling sparks radiating across her skin. He rested his elbows against his knees, their foreheads nearly touching. Their nearness caused her to notice a small imperfection on the bridge of his nose. In a passing thought, she wondered how he got it. She realised she wanted to know everything about the boy sitting in front of her, but more than anything, she wanted to know how his lips would feel against hers.

“Don’t be just,” Harry told Olivia softly, looking into her eyes intently. Usually, intense eye contact would cause one person to subconsciously break it, the intimate action too strong to accept. But Olivia found just the opposite - she was unable to look away from Harry’s gaze, even if she wanted to. Her head moved forward, impulsively and out of her control, until their foreheads were pressed up against one another. He smelled intoxicating, a delicious mixture of his shampoo, peppermint gum and just him.

“Okay,” she breathed out, the word barely audible but given their close proximity, it didn’t have to be. She managed to break eye contact, her gaze falling on his lips for just a moment before she looked back into his alluring green eyes. His pupils were wide and she could hear his heart thumping rhythmically with her own. She felt a pressure against her hands as he squeezed them tightly. She squeezed back, gripping his hands as she braced herself against his knees, dizzied by the sensations.

Just as the yearning between them became almost unbearable, Harry’s lips gently pressed against Olivia’s. She could taste his peppermint gum as he parted his soft lips, gingerly tasting her mouth with his tongue. Soft as the touch was, she still felt a shiver run though her core, a shiver that made her whole body tremble. Their hands remained tightly interlocked, her thumb rubbing against his as they quietly, carefully, explored each other’s mouths. His tiny bit of stubble rubbed Olivia’s cheek, but she didn’t care. He felt wonderful – his stubble, his slightly damp forehead pressed against hers, his tight grip on her hand. She realised then, she could kiss Harry a thousand and one more times and she would still be longing for more.

Notes